#Inheritance Games fanfic
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cherrys-writings · 8 months ago
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Storytime
Nash x Libby
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I have so may wips, but I couldn't resist the urge
Nash had said "The Love Hypothesis" was a good book. He even told her some fun trivia about it, that it was originally a Reylo fanfic set in a grad school AU. Libby was secretly a Reylo shipper and liked the idea of a STEM romance. Nash did not prepare her for the scene towards the end. Libby should not have been sitting in one of the many libraries reading it. Heat crept up her neck as she read the scene. 
“Have you finished the book yet?” A familiar voice called from the door way.
Libby snapped the book shut, “not quite.”
She stood and tried to leave, keeping her head lowered to hide her pink cheeks, but Nash was blocking her path. He slouched a bit trying to get to eye level with her, crooked grin on his face. 
“Where ya goin’ sweetheart?” 
“I just remembered…I have to…um there’s cookies in the oven,” Libby stammered. 
“I didn’t smell any cookies on my way here,” Nash drawled.
“I meant I had to put cookies in the oven,” her eyes darted around the room.
“Where are you at in that book I gave you?”
Libby gasped and took a step back, “why does it matter?”
Nash chuckled, “I think I know what part you’re at. Do you want me to read it to you?” Her eyes widened, but she didn’t protest when he took the book from her hands and pulled her back to her spot in the library. He started the scene from the beginning, the filthy words made even dirtier by his Texas drawl. Nash didn’t rush through the scene, he savored each word and glanced at Libby periodically. He loved how the blush creeped up to her ears as he read. How her lips were parted slightly almost like a perpetual gasp. Nash had to stifle a groan when she wet her lips and not so subtly shifted in her seat. He knew she was picturing the two of them together and he couldn’t help but do the same, his cock painfully hard by the time he reached the end. 
Nash barely made eye contact with Libby before she pounced. 
@thescribblednovel thanks for putting the idea in my head
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morganwrites12672 · 10 months ago
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Nash Hawthorne x Reader
Summary: You're sick and Nash takes care of you.
Request from @pandunar
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You had had a horrible fever for the past two days. It has finally calmed down, but you still felt horrible. You always caught the worst colds.
Nash had been concerned. You had cancelled a date. And the reason has been.... suspicious. You had claimed your sister was going through a rough breakup. Which he thought was odd, especially considering the fact that your sister was happily married. He had been your date to their wedding.
Nash was worried enough to go straight to your apartment. You mumbled a curse as you heard a knock. And then Nash's voice, thick with his Texas accent.
"Sweetheart? Are you okay in there?"
You didn't know what you should do. You had a shitty cold, but didn't want to worry Nash or get him sick...
You sighed before getting up and opening the apartment door. Careful to keep your distance from Nash, you spoke.
"You should go home Nash. I have this horrible cold, and I don't want to get you sick."
Nash chuckled.
"You won't get me sick." He said as he stepped aside and walked into your apartment. You frowned. Getting him sick would just make him miserable.
"Sweetheart, I'm going to take care of you, you know why? 'Cause you need me right now." Nash said. His words erased every glimmer of doubt from your mind. You needed him.
Nash led you into your bedroom. And he made you get in bed before tucking you in. God, you really did have the best boyfriend ever.
Nash brought you soup, and set cough drops on your side table. He kissed your forehead before sitting down on the bed.
"Go on and rest darling. I'll be here as long as you need me."
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jahayla-parker · 4 months ago
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IMPORTANT POLL
Hi all! I completed my urgent personal matter and can now return to writing more and getting works out sooner!
But, I wanted to see if there is any interest in me writing for the Hawthorne Brothers from The Inheritance Game Series? I’m thinking mostly Grayson and Jameson but would be open to any!
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inmyheaddd · 8 days ago
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walkin’ out the door with your bags — part 6
⤷ “i’m not the type to run, i know we’re having fun,”
summary: you and gigi are peacefully enjoying your day, when you find out, grayson’s… back? and he wants to talk. what could go wrong? wc: 3.0k masterlist || part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5
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14 years old… 
you found him hiding in the library.  
he was slumped in the corner, knees pulled to his chest, head buried in his arms. at first, you weren’t sure it was him—grayson hawthorne never looked so… small. 
his usually pristine shirt slightly wrinkled like he’d been tugging at the hem, and it wasn’t tucked in. he didn’t look straight at you when you stepped in, but he didn’t tell you to leave either.  
“what do you want?” his voice cracked, but he tried to sound cold.  
you didn’t answer. instead, you sat down beside him, legs crossed, like it was the most normal thing in the world. 
he blinked at you, waiting for an explanation, but you just shrugged. years of knowing each other, and it always went down like this. 
“company.” you picked a random book off the nearest shelf and flipped it open. “you can pretend i’m not here.”
he didn’t reply.
minutes passed. long enough that you thought maybe he really would ignore you. at one point, you began actually reading the book you were pretending to read, and nearly forgot about the boy beside you.
but then, out of nowhere, he spoke.
“i don’t know what to do.” he admitted slowly. “there’s this girl… emily,” he said, his voice low, and you felt your heart beat faster. “and… my brother. jameson.”
your chest tightened, though you weren’t sure why. your kept your gaze fixed on the pages of your book, but your hands had stopped turning the pages.
“what about them?” you asked carefully, glancing at him for a second.
he ran a hand through his hair. “she’s… complicated. and jameson—he doesn’t think. he just jumps into things, never stops to think what it might do to everyone else.”
you hesitated, breath hitching as you studied the way he wouldn’t look straight into your eyes. whatever this was, clearly meant a lot.
he continued, looking down at the floor. “it gets repetitive. jameson, emily—they don’t think about the damage until it’s too late. and then they leave me to clean it up. and stupidly, for some reason, i do. i always do.”
you’ve seen grayson sad before, but this was different. he looked… lost. and angry. and for someone like grayson, who always carried himself like he had the whole world in order, it was jarring.
“you’re allowed to be mad, you know,” you said.
that made him pause. “i’m not mad,” he said, but the words sounded like a blatant lie.
your shoulders were barely touching , but the act alone felt larger than anything else. 
you tilted your head, a soft smile growing on your face. “okay, then you’re… frustrated? dissapointed? annoyed? irritated? pick your adjective.”
that earned the tiniest flicker of a smile, and your chest felt a little lighter, but then it disappeared just as quickly. he looked at you then, and something about the way his eyes searched your face made your breath catch.
“sometimes, i think you’re the only person who actually sees me,” he said quietly.
your heart stuttered, and for a second, you couldn’t think of anything to say. 
but then you smiled, “of course i see you,” you rolled your eyes jokingly like he hadn’t just sincerely confirmed that he really did see you as a friend, after years of just feeling like you pestered him. 
your cheeks reddened, “i’m your friend, that’s what i’m here for.” 
“but, you know,” you continued, “you’re surrounded by people who care about you,” you said softly, taking the focus away from you, and back to being there for grayson. “just let yourself see it. don’t push them away.”
his head snapped up at that, his sharp eyes meeting yours. “but people never just… stay.” he mumbled. “they have their own lives, their own motives.”
you stayed. you always would. “that doesn’t mean you have to shut everyone out,” you said, your voice steadier now.
“not everyone’s going to hurt you, grayson. but you won’t know that if you keep closing the door before anyone gets close. i mean, i annoyed you for so many years straight even when you pushed me away.” you said. 
“not everyone has my extreme level of patience and willingness to accept moody brooding.” you joked to lighten the moment, but there was truth behind it, he couldn’t expect people to stick around if he pushed them away.
he stared at you for a long moment, and something in his expression cracked, like he wanted to believe you but didn’t quite know how yet. 
he looked back at the floor, “you never actually irritated me,” he admitted, “and i never hated you. perhaps you’re right, i don’t��� i don’t like to let people in.” 
you shrugged casually, “i’m always right.” 
he looked at you with a newfound softness in his eyes. “you’re annoyingly persistent, you know that?” he said finally, your shoulders still brushing against each other. 
“oh, i know.” you grinned. “if i wasn’t, we wouldn’t be friends right now.” you said with a small smile. “someone’s gotta stick around to remind you you’re not as alone as you think.”
for a while, neither of you said anything. grayson leaned his head back against the wall, letting out a long, quiet breath. 
that was when you knew he was replaying your words, letting them sink in—even if he wouldn’t say it outloud. 
— 
present
after days of confusion and radio silence from grayson, you finally told yourself that you were done overthinking. gigi had dragged you to your favorite ice cream shop for a much-needed distraction. 
the two of you sat at your usual table near the front, the smell of waffle cones and the soft hum of background music lulling you back into some sense of normalcy. that was until gigi leaned closer, her voice a hushed whisper.
“don’t look now, but…” gigi trailed off, her eyes going behind you once again. “grayson is kind of, um, here. and sitting behind you.” 
considering gigi had made very careful effort to not even mention his name around you — even when you persisted you didn’t care— hearing graysons name come from her lips stunned you for a moment, then you realized what she had just said. 
“what?” you whispered in shock, and then you turned around before you could think it twice. 
there were quite a few people in the shop, so there was quiet chatter mixed with the background music, but it all seemed to silence. 
but there he was, grayson hawthorne, sitting in the back of the empty icecream shop, glasses on typing on his computer.
‘who did he think he was?’ you thought, ‘coming to our— my place? the one that i introduced him to?’ 
you focused on the anger so you wouldn’t feel anything else. 
what on earth was he doing here? who the hell comes to an ice cream shop and doesn’t even get anything? and does what, office work? and who—
he looked up through his glasses, and you realized to late that you were sort of… full blown staring. 
he met your eyes for the briefest of seconds as you turned your head back around. 
“holy cow…” gigi mumbled as she looked down at her icecream, “he’s giving you a major longing stare right now.”
“okay,” you hummed, raising your eyebrows momentarily in lieu of a shrug that he would he able to see, “i don’t care.”
“sure you don’t,” she replied knowingly, dragging her spoon through her melting sundae. you gave her a look that said you didn’t agree, and that you seriously did not care, but she didn’t say anything. 
a beat passed before gigi suddenly grinned. “okay. in five seconds, i’m giving him a major angry glare.” she mumbled under her breath. 
“gigi, do not.”
“three…
“seriously, don’t.”
“two… one. i’m doing it!”
“gigi!”
she tilted her head back up, and bless her heart, gave her best attempt at a seething glare at grayson. 
it was sort of impossible for her to look angry with her wide blue eyes, no matter how hard she furrowed her brows. 
and she didn’t let up at it for a few seconds, then raised her eyebrows — half surprised and half amused. “ha,” she grinned to herself and fisted the air. “he looked away first. loser.” 
he was probably just crazily confused, you reckoned. 
“okay,” you chuckled under your breath, your cheeks reddening by the second. “um, should we leave now?”
“no,” gigi whined, taking a bite of her icecream. “that’ll make it obvious we’re mad. besides, i haven’t finished my icecream.” 
“well, i think that look you gave him made it more obvious,” you told her, and she only laughed as she shook her head. “but alright.” 
it wasn’t long before you left. you didn’t even have an appetite any more, and you were too overly aware of a presence behind you to focus on anything else. gigi finished her icecream promptly. 
the drive home was quiet. gigi hummed along to the radio, her mood as bright as ever, but you couldn’t shake the tightness in your chest. 
your thoughts churned, questions you’d been trying to bury for a few days swirling all over again.
“you’re quiet,” gigi said after a while, her tone soft. she glanced at you, concerned, but you only shook your head, trying to force a small smile.
“just tired,” you mumbled.
gigi didn’t push, and you could tell she didn’t buy it.
you pulled into the driveway and sat there for a moment, the car engine ticking softly as it cooled. gigi patted your arm before grabbing her bag and heading inside.
you smiled and nodded, muttering something like ‘i’ll meet you inside,’ and you stayed behind for a moment, staring at the steering wheel.
your phone was put on silent, then you scrolled through your notifications. 
grayson 
— Hi, I believe I saw you and Gigi today
you
— yeah haha i think gigi told me she saw you  i thought you were gone for 8 days? — it’s nice to see you back
grayson 
— Likewise. — I think we should talk, It’s been long overdue. 
a scoff escaped before you could stop it. the audacity.
your fingers moved before your brain could catch up.
you
— ok — talk then 
grasyon
— Would you be alright with talking in person?
you 
— yeah sure whatever — where?
grayson
— I’ll come to you.
you
— maybe not — i don’t want to disturb gigi
grayson
— Our park spot, then?
you
— ok
your heart slammed in your chest. you sat there for a moment, staring at the screen wordlessly, trying to process what just happened. 
our? how could he even still use that word?
this was happening, you were going to talk to grayson for real this time. you anticipated it wouldn’t end good. things with him were rarely easy.
you put on your headphones to numb your thoughts, pulled on a hoodie, and made your way out the house. 
the playground was completely empty, which was usually how it was when you and grayson used to go. the sun was already beginning to set when you walked out of your house, and it was fully dark once you arrived, making your way toward your spot. the bench.
it wasn’t anything special—just a worn wooden bench tucked away at the edge of the playground. but it had been yours. you and grayson’s.
he was already there when you arrived, sitting with his elbows resting on his knees, staring at the ground like it might have the answers he needed.
you sat down on the opposite end of the bench, keeping a deliberate distance. “okay,” you said, crossing your arms. “talk.” the park was eerily quiet, the air cooling rapidly as the sun finally disappeared behind the trees. the bench felt cold under your fingers as you sat down, the weight of the moment settling in.
his eyes flicked to yours, and for the first time, you thought you saw a hint of guilt there. 
you were both silent for a few seconds, before you looked away, down at the floor.
“fine, if you won’t talk, i will.” you muttered. 
“grayson,” you sighed, “you can’t just—” you started, your voice breaking slightly before you caught yourself. 
you cleared your throat, willing the tears to stay put. “you can’t just disappear and then show up like nothing happened. like i’m supposed to just... what? forget it?”
he inhaled, then hesitated. “you know, i never meant it to be like this. i didn’t mean for it to feel like that.” he said quietly, his tone so calm that it just made you more angry.
“feel like what, grayson?” you finally snapped your head towards his. “like you were ignoring me? like you couldn’t be bothered to let me know what was going on? because that’s exactly what it felt like.”
his jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything.
“that’s it?” you scoffed, followed by a bitter laugh as you sat up straight. “you disappear, you come back, and all you’ve got is ‘i didn’t mean for it to feel like that?’”
he wielded silence like a weapon, just like he always had.
you continued, still. “what’s going on with you? you’re acting so— so different, i barely even recognize you.”
he let out a breath as he looked away, running a hand through his hair. “please, don’t make this harder than it already is,” he started, his voice calm but careful. “yes, we are good friends, but we’ve tarnished that too far for us to ever be simply friends again.”
“what? grayson,” you said through a forced laugh, “what are you even saying right now?” you knew precisely what he was saying. 
“you’re a good person.” he said, almost sounding like he was begging for you to see his point, “you’re a lovely person, the most caring and funniest person i’ve met. you deserve better, i’m not the person for you.” 
“grayson, what is wrong with you?” you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity at what you were hearing, but you were so frustrated at his… selfishness.
“i want you, you want me, right? it’s that simple! just let us be us.”
“it’s never that simple.” he shook his head, that one strand falling back into his face. his brows furrowed slightly like the words hurt him to say.
“it is that simple! you’re making no sense, just— just stop.” you stood up, and he followed, fear flashing in his eyes momentarily. 
you took a slow step away from him.
“you kissed me! you kissed me.” your voice crackled, and you swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to keep going. “if you knew from day one that you couldn’t do this, you should’ve just spared me the effort and left me alone.”
he looked at you like you’d shot a dagger through his heart, though his eyes were the only thing that showed it. were you being unfair? probably. but in your eyes, you had every right to be. 
as much as both of you hated to admit, his eyes were far too easy for you to read. they were like a language only you were fluent in, like you could have a whole conversation without even speaking.
now, all they said was pain. 
“you’re the only thing making things more difficult, gray.” you hated the way your voice trembled. 
low blow after low blow. but he deserved it. 
all those nights you’d spent together? he knew you inside and out, what hurts you, what doesn’t, and exactly how you love.
he knew all of that, and he still thought that leaving because things were difficult was going to be the right thing.
this couldn’t be real.
“look at us, don’t you see it?” he motioned between the two of you, like whatever was happening was a tangible thing he could see. “we’re fighting like this, and we’re not even together. we’re going to ruin each other.”
ruin each other? is that what he thought? god knows how many years of friendship, a pretty perfect friendship too, and he thought making something official would lead to you ruining each other? 
you weren’t fighting with him, you were trying to fight for him. for the chance of you actually being something more. 
“we can’t do this.” his voice felt so detached, but his eyes looked so hurt at the same time. he didn’t getto feel hurt, not when it was his fault. “we’ll just end up hurting eachother, and i don’t want to hurt you.”
you nodded silently, willing your tears back. every inch of you you wanted to scream in his face, “you already have! you coward.”
he was doing nothing but hurt you these past few days.
instead, you nodded, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay.
“yeah,” you said, pressing your lips together as you nodded again. “alright. i get it. that’s it then?”
grayson’s eyes narrowed for a split second like he was confused. 
was he surprised? did he think you were going to hang on longer? because you weren’t. you’d spent far too much energy on him. you always saw him as someone worth spending you time on, someone worth trying to figure out, someone you wanted to know.
but you understood now: he didn’t want you to figure him out because he didn’t even know who he was himself. he was scared. but that wasn’t an excuse; you were terrified, and you still were. 
love had always been your fatal flaw, the one thing you were unsure of, but you were willing to dive in head first because it was grayson. 
he just didn’t feel as deeply though. 
you didn’t want to figure him out, and you didn’t want to know anything about him anymore. 
he didn’t answer right away. instead, he looked at you, and for a moment, his mask slipped. his eyes—those stupid, stupid eyes— almost made you want to feel sorry for him. he looked vulnerable, but you were too angry to let it affect you this time.
“i… yes.” grayson finally said, sounding unsure of himself for once in his life. “i suppose that’s it.”
“good,” you nodded as your crossed your arms, “because i don’t want to hear what you have to say ever again.“ 
he reached his hands out but quickly let his arms fall back, curling his fingers into a fist. 
he looked at you like he didn’t know what to say, his mouth opening and closing before he finally settled on just staying silent.
you still felt like there was a million unspoken words that needed to be said, but you turned and walked away. 
for once, you didn’t wait to see if he’d try again.
you willed your feet to move and not think about how he looked behind you, because if you did, even for a second, you had a feeling you’d turn right back. 
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a/n: guys it gets better i swear they’ll be happier than ever soon 🙏 taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable
@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07
 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 
@clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams 
@hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee
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wish-i-were-heather · 4 months ago
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A FOOL FOR YOU PT 4⤵ GRAYSON HAWTHORNE X READER
ABOUT: 2642 words, no use of y/n (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5)
STORY: well, y'know. you can't ignore a 911 text from a hawthorne
WARNINGS: none really, reader does struggle to swim tho and freaks out a little
TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl @zuzanna-jadw1ga @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @jimcarreyfann42 @ravishinglyliving @maybxlle - lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!
A/N: EEK I LOVED WRITING THIS. i didn't describe the reader's swimsuit because i don't know what everyone is comfortable with so i let you kinda imagine it however u want! i'm not sure how many more parts i can get out of this idea, there'll definitely be at least one more lmk what u think tho
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He said please. 
Grayson didn’t lack manners. It’s not that he didn’t know how to say please and thank you. But he also wasn’t the kind of person to throw around a plea lightly. Grayson Hawthorne was, well, a Hawthorne. The name itself was a demand, not requiring a please. But he’d felt the need to say please to you. 
Maybe you were overthinking it. 
Or maybe you were still in denial, like Avery said you were. 
The texts came in at eight at night, too, which only raised more questions in your mind. If he wanted to talk to you, why hadn’t he just found you? Or simply texted you to meet somewhere? You didn’t understand why he’d felt the need to use the 911; you would’ve come if he’d just told you to go to the pool. 
Hawthornes did tend to have a flare for dramatics, you supposed. 
You had no idea why Grayson wanted you to meet him at the pool. He was a swimmer, sure, but that was very much his personal time. Grayson didn’t often appreciate people watching or joining him in the pool. But, you figured there was a chance he expected you to.
So you found yourself at her door again. Despite the faint conversation you could hear from inside, you knocked. 
Avery took longer than last time to open the door. “What’s up?” She asked. 
“Hey. Uh, do you have a swimsuit I could borrow?”
She frowned slightly, confused. “I mean I do, yeah, but why-”
You didn’t even have to say anything. You just showed her your phone screen with the text messages. Her eyes widened as she read them and she immediately opened the door wider for you. “Get the hell in here.”
Avery was already digging through the grand dresser. As you entered the room behind her, you noticed Jameson sitting on the floor in front of a deck of cards, giving you a curious look. “What-”
“Not now, Jamie,” Avery quickly answered. “Girl problem.”
That shut him up. 
“Don’t mind him,” she told you, turning back around with a few items in hand. “We were just playing solitaire.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Together? Isn’t that a one player game?”
“His idea, not mine. Managed to turn it into a competition too, somehow,” Avery shrugged. Jameson gasped dramatically but she continued before he could speak, bringing your attention back to why you asked for help. “So, I’ve actually never worn this one before, you could keep it if you want. Or-”
“That one’s fine,” you interrupted, taking it from her. “Can I change in your bathroom?” “Oh, uh, yeah, sure I guess,” Avery answered, clearly confused as to why you were so quick to answer. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get there as soon as I can. Thanks.”
You didn’t change completely, just putting it on and putting your clothes back on over it. You didn’t plan on getting into the water, but it was worth being prepared.
As you were stepping out of the room and thanking Avery, Jameson called, “Say hi to Gray for me.”
Your head snapped back. “What?”
“Come on,” he smirked. “He’s practically the only person who uses the pool, especially at this time. So tell him I said hi.”
Shaking your head, you just ignored him. Jameson was the type of person who could read people well, so odds are he probably already knew he was right. But you didn’t want to give even more of a reaction to him than you already had. 
Avery grabbed your arm though, before you left. “Hey, hey, good luck.”
You thanked her and left, just hoping Jameson wouldn’t try to watch from the window. 
~~
The cool night air hit you sharply as you stepped outside. It hadn’t been too chilly during the day, but you now found yourself wishing you were in more than just shorts and a thin hoodie.
Shivering, you made your way over to the pool. Your mind was racing the whole way there, but there wasn’t really anything else for you to be wondering. Grayson had asked for you to come to the pool, presumably either to swim with him or just because he was most comfortable there. Either way, it was pretty clear that he wanted to discuss what happened when he was drunk. But you still didn’t understand why he sent the 911. 
Good thing you were on your way to finding out. 
The pool deck was empty, save for a few lounge chairs. The fancy cushioned kind, the ones you would only find at a hotel. And the Hawthorne mansion, of course. 
On one of the chairs were two neatly folded towels- two. So he did expect you to get in the water with him? Where was he anyway? If he’d already brought out towels, why wasn’t he-
Splash.
You’d been too caught up in your thoughts and the sound of your heart racing in your chest to realize that Grayson was, in fact, already in the pool. Swimming laps because he was Grayson Hawthorne, so of course he was swimming laps when the sun had already set and the only light in the sky was that of the stars. 
Swimming had never really been your thing, so you didn’t know the exact stroke, but you would’ve been a liar if you said you weren't somewhat mesmerized. The way his arms went up and out, the way his fingers glided along the surface before entering the water once again. His legs kicked together, the movement fast and almost indiscernible under the blue of surrounding him. 
Grayson came up for air so quickly you couldn’t even make out his face, but your eyes caught on the way his hair flicked up with his head. It was certainly a skill, and he managed it so gracefully. You struggled to look away.
Thankfully, you were pulled out of your stare when he suddenly reached the wall nearest to you. Grayson’s hands touched the edge of the pool in perfect sync. You could see the red in his face, the tire he was giving himself from swimming. You wondered how long he’d been there before you found him.
Grayson met your eyes with a tired smile as he caught his breath. “You came.”
“You said 911,” you explained, sitting on the edge of the chair where he’d set the towels. “I figured it was pretty important.” 
“Yes, I did.” He nodded. “We do only get one of those a year, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to any of my brothers.”
“Got it.”
He was avoiding the elephant in the room. 
“Would you like to join me?”
You stared at him. “Excuse me?” 
“You’re excused,” he said. “Would you like to join me?”
Was he really just going to ignore the fact that he’d sent you such an urgent message? A 911 could’ve meant he was dying, for all you knew when you’d first received it. And what, it was because he wanted to go for a swim with you? There was more he wasn’t saying and you just wanted to yell at him to spit it out. 
Instead, you responded calmly. 
“Join you in the pool?”
Grayson looked you up and down and shook his head. “I suppose you can’t really, not without proper swimwear.”
You got in the pool in a suit when you were drunk, you didn’t say. 
“I have a bathing suit on under this,” you explained. “I just… why do I need to get in the water? Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”
He took a deep breath. 
“I’ve decided I owe you an apology. For what happened.” You knew immediately what he was referring to. “I was reckless and foolish and unintentionally put the burden of myself onto you. It would have been easier for you to just leave me be, but you dealt with my mess. I appreciate that.” 
The silence that followed was only interrupted by the gentle lapping of the pool.
“See why I figured you should get in?” He asked. “We’d be at an even level. Better suited for such a conversation.”
“Or you could just get out,” you offered. 
“Please?” 
That word again.
Grayson Hawthorne knew what he was doing. 
“Fine,” you groaned, but really only half annoyed. You turned around as you began to take off the layers above the swimsuit, watching him in the corner of your eye as he looked away respectfully.
The cold hit you even harder now that you had removed your hoodie, and you hoped that the pool was well heated. 
“Okay, okay.” You began walking over to the edge of the pool where Grayson was. When his eyes found you, he stared for a little longer than normal before answering.
“You’re nervous,” he observed. “Can you swim?”
You shrugged, taking another step closer. “I know how to stop myself from drowning.”
Grayson moved out of your way and you sat on the edge of the pool with your feet getting wet. It was heated, thankfully. Comfortably so. No wonder he loved to come here at night. 
He was watching you silently. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it was killing you. Not that anyone could ever tell what Grayson Hawthorne hid behind those piercing eyes, but yet another question amidst everything that had happened that week was too much.
Of course he’s a mystery, he’s a Hawthorne. 
Before you could overthink it even further, you got in.
The warmth of the water enveloped you, contrasting greatly with the chill of the night air. You were holding onto the wall, not planning on letting go because your swimming skills were just barely above that of a child starting swim lessons. But Grayson’s intense gaze kept your heart racing. 
He swam towards you, grabbing onto the wall a little closer but still leaving a respectful distance between you. “Do you know why I sent the 911?”
“No,” you admitted. “It scared me.”
“I apologize for that. I panicked.”
You hadn’t expected that confession from him.
“You panicked?”
He nodded slowly. “I was afraid you’d think less of me after how I acted. You haven’t spoken to me in days, so I wasn’t sure you’d come otherwise.” The vulnerability in his voice was tangible.
“It’s not that I’ve been trying to avoid you, Grayson,” you explained. “I just… I mean, you haven’t spoken to me either.”
“I thanked you, I thought we were past what happened. I didn’t think we needed to talk about it.”
“You thanked me and then flirted and walked away.”
Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Did I?”
“You know very well what you did,” you said, trying to hide the blush on your face. 
He swam a little closer. His voice dropped to the same sincere tone it had adopted back when he was drunk. When you’d told him to be careful and he’d cupped your face. When he said he’d never hurt you, never. 
“Perhaps I do. But that doesn’t change the fact that I burdened you with my drunk self.”
“You’re not a burden, Grayson,” you told him, also pushing yourself closer to him along the wall. “It was no problem, really. Just a little entertaining.”
He chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or bitter. 
The way he was looking at you was making you feel something. Something you couldn’t name but… didn’t quite hate. You started to move yourself a little closer to him until-
Splash.
Your hand slipped off the edge of the pool, accidentally sending you back. Not exceptionally far or deep into the pool, but enough to make you panic. You could keep yourself afloat, sure, but not when you were suddenly pushed away from the only solid thing keeping your head above water.
But before you could fully let the panic set in, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you upwards.
The sensation of being lifted was disorienting. You were overwhelmed by the sudden rush of water and movement, then the lack of water as your head reached the surface again. Even if you’d barely been below the water for a few seconds, you found yourself gasping for air. 
Grayson’s arm around you was the only steady thing in the chaos.
“Hey, hey” Grayson spoke, and it took a moment for your startled mind to process the words. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”
You blinked rapidly, trying to focus. It took a moment for your breathing to calm down, but you helped yourself by rationalizing it; you’d been under the water for maybe five seconds, there was no need to panic so much.
The shock had just gotten you.
His voice broke through again, focusing your vision and hearing on him. “Just breathe, in and out. Nice and slow, just like that.”
You followed his instructions, taking deep breaths. Your panic began to fade, and you became painfully aware of how close he now was to you, the proximity at which he held you.
Grayson didn’t let go as you calmed down, simply keeping you tucked protectively in his arm as if the water was threatening you. He used his free hand to reach up and brush a wet strand of hair from your face behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so careful, that you felt your heart flutter.
“Are you alright?” He asked. 
You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Thank you.”
He only nodded in return, his usually sharp gray eyes beginning to soften as he stared down at you. He didn’t move his hand away after moving the hair out of your face. It stayed there, lingering around your ear, until he decided to move down, cupping your face.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t the first time that shirtless Grayson Hawthorne was holding your face in his large hands and looking at you in a way that was more than an annoyed glance. 
But it felt different this time. More intense, more real. 
He wasn’t drunk, not hungover; there was no doubt in your mind that he really meant everything. His eyes were still locked on yours with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place, yet somehow felt deep within your core. 
He leaned forward, so close to you that your foreheads were almost touching. His eyes fluttered shut and you realized what was happening only after you felt the words he whispered against your lips-
“I’m sorry.”
Grayson closed the small gap between you, gently pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant at first, like he was giving you the chance to pull away or tell  him to stop. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into the kiss, the arm around you tightened.
Your hands moved on their own, both sliding their way up to rest on his chest. He responded to your touch with a low hum that made you shiver despite the heated pool. 
His arm moved up to the back of your head, pushing you impossibly closer to him. The kiss grew more urgent, more desperate, like he was trying to express every emotion he’d been hiding for the past week. It was overwhelming, and for a moment nothing existed outside of you and Grayson Davenport Hawthorne.
When he pulled back, you kept your eyes closed. Grayson placed a small kiss on your forehead before resting it against his own. You were so close now, much closer than before, but that didn’t matter anymore.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” he admitted softly.
“Me too, Grayson,” you grinned. “Me too.”
When he kissed you again, he tasted like those stupid cherries he loved and felt like the end of the world.
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the writing above belongs to me. please do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own. © 2024 wish-i-were-heather
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f4iry-bell · 1 month ago
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CHANGE MY MIND
pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader
summary: grayson pushed reader away sm that he lost her.
tagging: @unnoodles @never-enough-novels @alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @benny1989fredd @imaseabear @elysianwayy77 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07
warning: angst
a/n: inspired by @daystarpoet 's cai 🤭pls do check it out, it's amazing.
masterlist
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He does it again, he has been pushing her away for the past week, not telling how he really feels. Whenever she asks him, it's always “I'm fine” , the obvious lie. It was so frustrating for both of them as Grayson just won't tell her what is up, and she can't just watch him go through something alone, without understanding.
Grayson was currently driving her to this event they're supposed to go to, something that's hosted by the heiress for charity. The problem is the drive was filled with Graysons lonely suffering, he wanted to be alone at the moment, especially with her constantly asking what's wrong. He was a patient person but he needed her to stop it, without thinking he snapped.
“Will you ever stop? I said I'm fine.” He gripped the steering wheel.
“I'm just trying to under—”
“No, you're trying to be annoying.” The words stung her heart. She didn't expect him to ever use such a word on her.
She looked at him with slightly teary eyes but she didn't want him to see her, so she turned her face towards the window, and kept quiet the entire ride.
Grayson, realising what he has done, gently put his hands on her knees to show her he didn't mean it, but she barely acknowledged his touch or him. She completely ignored him. It hurts Grayson that she ignored him, but he knew he deserved it. After all, he led her to this.
After the teacher held the event, she didn't wait for Grayson to open her door, she immediately got out and started walking to the event. Grayson, given his speed, caught up to her quickly. Once they were in he put his hands on the small of her back as he led her through the crowd, they met some new people, he introduced her to them as his girlfriend as if nothing is going on between them right. She slipped away from him for a while, while he was thinking about the situation, and his habit of isolation, distancing himself. She came back to where she left him, and spoke.
“Avery invited me to stay over at her place. You can leave if you wish to, I'll be going riding with her and Jameson.” She said, her face was flushed a bit.
“Oh.” He wasn't processing what she said at first. “You don't have to leave with them.” He gathered himself.
“I should.”
“No, you're doing this on purpose.”
“So?”
He hated how calm her tone sounded, but he knew her body language said otherwise.
“So you're being childish. We have an argument, and you don't want to face the aftermath.” He pointed.
“No, Grayson I don't. And it's rich coming from you because you don't face anything! You don't face me when you're feeling like—I have no clue what— and I have to sit here, and watch you go through it alone!” She snapped.
The words hit him, he knew it was true, and he hated it. When she noticed the lack of reply she shook her head, and walked away but Grayson caught her arm, gentle yet firm.
“Don't walk away from me.”
“Why? I thought I was annoying.”
“Don't— you're being difficult.”
“No, it's easy. You push me away, and now I'm going away. It's as simple as that.”
“No, you're being stubborn.”
“And you're not?” She scoffed.
“I'm sick of this, always arguing with you, always asking for answers that I can't give you. I'm sick of it.”
“Then let me go.”
He loosened his grip on her hand.
“No, Grayson, I meant let me go. Out of your life.” Her shoulders relaxed when she finished her sentence. Grayson's stiffened.
“I…You don't mean that.”
“I do. You either let me in or let me go.”
Grayson looked down, and shook his head. “You can't put me in this position.”
“No. I'm not, if you can't be vulnerable, if you still feel not comfortable enough to be vulnerable with me after six months of dating, then I don't think I'm the right person for you, Grayson.” It hurted her to say the last part. She really thought they were going to last forever when they started dating.
He was awfully quiet, he was deciding what to say. He knew what his problem was, but he just couldn't tell her. This is the right thing.
“Maybe you're right.” She knew what she said but hearing it from him was worse.
She nodded her head. “I'll take a cab home, and move out tomorrow.”
Grayson helped her with the cab. He wanted to be close to her at the last moment, because he was never going to get her back. After everything he did, and said she'll never take him back.
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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago
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Here’s my masterlist! I will try to keep it updated as I post fics.
last update: 11/06/24
ACOTAR Masterlist | Throne of Glass Masterlist | Crescent City Masterlist | Fourth Wing Masterlist | The Inheritance Games
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midiosaamor · 7 months ago
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❪ ✦ ❫ 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍’𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄.
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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: grayson hawthorne x fem!reader.
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: grayson hawthorne has a long routine for the morning; but his half-asleep-willing-girlfriend will make it all better.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluff, pet names, sleepy, female reader, forehead kisses, waking up early, swimming (are those even warnings?), use of Y/N, softie grayson (?)
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 1073
𝐀/𝐍: bro reader is me. also idk i saw this on a fanfic or like a headcanon with grayson but i forgot who made it?? TRLL ME WHO IT IS SO I COULD KNOW AND TAG THEM GRAHGG??
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄.
𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃: ✓
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @reminiscentreader @nqds @never-enough-novels @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys @evaswarner @sc11vb @sophiesonlinediary @starrynightsxo @f4iry-bell @his-littlefox @viivdle
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grayson hawthorne has a strict morning routine. wake up at 5 to swim, swim until the others wake up, take a shower, get dressed, get coffee, and do whatever grayson does.
now, having a girlfriend who hates mornings, though, makes his routine have some… holes in it. though, whenever she said she wanted to do it with him, he couldn’t lie that he was happy with it.
“are you sure you want to wake up with me tomorrow, love?” he asks, looking at you nervously. you grin at him. “yeah, i’m sure. plus, i’m tired of not waking up with you in bed, so…” you trail off.
grayson lifts an eyebrow before sighing. “okay, but if you’re too tired to, just tell me and you could go back to bed, okay?”
“i know, don’t worry!”
now, you know that he wakes up early. but you never knew how early.
“love,” grayson says as he lightly shakes your shoulders. you groan tiredly, turning on your side. “Y/N, you said you wanted to wake up with me.”
“yeah, but i never knew how early…” you mumble, your eyes still closed. he chuckles lightly. “you said you wanted to, right?”
“mhm.”
“then come on.”
sighing, you blink your eyes open before rubbing the sleep from your eyes. you look up at the blond above you and hum.
you wrap your arms around his neck and close your eyes again. “‘cmon, pick me up,” you mumble, digging your face in his neck. grayson tries to hide his smile as he puts a hand behind the small of your back and picks you up with him.
you wrap your legs around him as he walks to the walk-in closet and sets you down again.
you yawn, rubbing your eyes as grayson gets out his swimming trunks and your bathing suit. “do you want to swim with me?” he asks, looking up at you from his crouching position.
you shrug and say i don’t know with your mouth closed. he rolls his eyes at you, amused as he takes the swimming clothes.
you watch him as he takes his swimming trunks and walks into the restroom with them. you frown. you’ve already seen everything, why does he need to change in the bathroom?
but, you suppose that him sleeping without a shirt is a reward itself already. even though the reason why, was a whole nother conversation that you two already had.
soon, he comes back out with his swimming trunks on and you grab your swimming suit and walk into the restroom.
you tiredly—slowly—change into your swimming suit, the feeling of the fabric against your dry skin making you feel weird. of course, it’ll feel better once you're wet, but still.
you toss your dirty clothes on the wall, where a piece of it opens and takes the clothes before closing again.
you snort and roll your eyes. rich people. walking back out, you see grayson making his bed with two towels on his shoulder and if you were any other person, you’d find this weird, cleaning while he’s in his swimming trunks.
if you were any other person.
he spots you walking out and straightens his back, offering his hand to you. smiling—still tired, surprisingly—you take his hand.
he smiles back and takes you out of his room and to the swimming pool. he swims until everyone else wakes up, he told you. you wonder how long that exactly takes.
all of the rooms are still dark as he makes it to the swimming pool, sliding open the see-through door.
still holding your hand, he steps outside and to one of the pool chairs, putting down the towels on top of it.
you hum and sit on the chair, bringing your legs to your chest.
“do you want to stay here?” grayson asks, lifting an eyebrow at you. you nod at him. “i’ll go in later,” you say, making him form a little smile at you.
he was never one to smile, but he always does when he’s with you. it brings toy joy; especially when it’s a full-blown smile, one of those rare ones.
you watch as he gets into the pool and begins to swim, going from the end of the pool to the other end of the pool, swimming in laps.
you watch how his back muscles move as he moves his arms, his biceps flexing. you blink and look away from him before he can see you staring.
even though you two are official now, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed whenever he caught you staring at him.
especially in situations like this one.
it was a little while later when you got up from your chair and stepped to the edge of the pool. grayson glanced at you sitting down, before making his way to you.
he’s over there before you even got your feet in the water, putting his hands on either side of your thighs. you put your hands on top of his own and lean down, kissing his wet forehead.
he wraps his arms around your hips and puts his head on top of your chest, making you wrap your arms around his wet neck.
“do you want to come in now?” he asks, his words slightly muffled from your chest. “yeah,” you hum, moving your legs back and forth in the water, both beside his hips.
he nods and trails his hands down to your bottom, pulling you towards him before he backs away from the ledge, bringing you with him.
you squeal as you wrap your legs and arms around him, the cold water making you freeze. “it’s freezing!” you exclaim, squeezing your eyes shut. “jesus—how are you not cold, gray?”
he chuckles and kisses your forehead. “i’ve gotten used to it, flower.”
a few moments later after swimming, kissing, and hugging, avery walks out with jameson by his side.
“stop flirting and come eat. breakfast is ready,” jameson says, smirking at his brother. grayson glares at him and slowly brings you down from where you were.
you had tried to see how long he could not breathe from underwater, but of course, he had to try to impress you and was under there longer than he should have.
of course, he didn’t tell you that, though. after all, he needs to beat you in the pool games tomorrow—which, of course, he’ll never admit to liking.
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lyrakanefanaticwriting · 2 months ago
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First Kiss- libby x nash
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authors note: i just realized i have never made a libby x nash fic before… which should be a criminal offence honestly. anyway here it is, and if you can’t tell by the title, it’s libby and nash’s first kiss 😉😉
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Libby poured all the wet ingredients into her bowl, while Nash focused on the dry ones. Even though she hated to admit it because she knew Avery was going through her own problems, she had been stressed with all the drama surrounding Drake, and Nash had offered to bake with her. He warned her that he was a terrible baker, but Libby assured him that all would be smooth sailing. She handed her bowl to Nash, who took it with a low hum as his fingers brushed hers, sending electricity down Libbys spine, before he poured Libby’s bowl into his bigger bowl. Libby reached into one of the cupboards to get an apron, when she heard something being plugged in. The electric mixer. Libbys eyes widened as she rushed over to Nash.
“Wait!” She exclaimed, racing over to him as she grabbed his arm. He turned and raised a brow at her, and her hand on his arm, and Libby dropped her arm back to her side, his sudden attentiveness making her draw back the slightest bit. Then he smiled, slow and smooth, as he spoke.
“What’s the problem, darling?” He asked her, turning to face her more clearly. Stubbornness rose in her chest.
“Not your darling. Also,” She said, going back to grab the apron she dropped before handing it to him. “Mixing in the dry ingredients without an apron would mean getting powder all over your white shirt. You need an apron.” His sudden eye contact made her feel nervous, so she turned her head. She thought that would be the end of it, before Nash’s rough, yet gentle, hands took her chin and moved her face to look back at his. Heat rose in her cheeks as Nash held her gaze again, before pulling his hand away, tying the apron around his waist, and speaking.
“Good to know. Hey, how’s this look?” Nash asked, pulling his arms out to the side so Libby could see his apron with ducks littered all over it. Libby laughed into her palm before speaking, trying to hide her giggles.
“Very stylish.” She said, her mouth fighting back a smile. He smiled at her, except this time, his teeth showed, as well as one dimple on his left cheek. God, why did he have to have those kind of smiles? Libby mentally cursed herself, before turning around and going back to what she was doing.
“Okay, get mixing now on the lowest setting for two minutes.” She ordered.
“Yes, ma’am.” He replied. The comment made her cheeks blush the slightest bit, but she just shook her head as she continued to clean her counter. Libby put all the dishes in the sink, before getting a spray bottle and spraying the entire counter down. She went to grab the cloth, but she couldn’t find it. Then she turned her head, and realized it was in the cupboard by Nash’s side of the kitchen. Okay, Libby thought. I just have to go past him. No sweat. Libby sauntered towards Nash, before he suddenly turned off his mixer.
“Hey, Libby, do you think that’s-“ Nash didn’t get to finish before whirling around, so quick that Libby jumped with a slight shout. Her feet tried to balance herself, but she noticed, with an internal groan, that there was some water spilt on the ground. Her feet slipped on the water and she started to fall backwards, before an arm wrapped around her waist, catching her one handed and pulling her up.
“Hey, did you slip, darl? Are you alright?” Nash’s soft voice drawled, his arm still wrapped around her waist as he turned to look at her. Libby tilted her head up and met his eyes too, and she was sure right then and there that there was a major blush on her face.
“Um- yeah! Yeah, I’m fine.” Libby stuttered, pulling herself out of Nash’s ridiculously muscular arms and grabbing the cloth out of the cupboard as fast as possible. “I just needed this.” She waved the cloth in the air, before feeling like she had to say more from Nash’s raised brow.
“I didn’t fall on purpose.” Libby blurted suddenly. That made both of Nash’s eyebrows raise, as he put down the mixer and crossed his arms, looking stupidly attractive despite the dumb apron. “It wasn’t a whole bit where you could catch me, you know.” Nash’s sudden smirk and raised brow told Libby everything she needed to know. She had said too much. Oh, why didn’t you just leave it at that? Libby cursed herself as she scrambled to explain.
“Well, that’s not what I meant, I just meant that-“ Libby cut herself off as she realized that no matter how much she explained, it was not going to get any less weird. “Never mind, bye.” Libby was about to scramble off to the counter she was trying to clean when Nash suddenly chuckled and took ahold of her hips, drawing her back. Libbys brain blanked as it finally caught up with what was going on: Nash’s hands, Her hips.
“Now hold on there,” Nash drawled teasingly, stepping closer as he crossed his arms and held her gaze. “You saying you fell on purpose over there, Grambs?” Libby’s heart raced once he took that step, her brain too broken by his close vicinity and earthy smell to focus on anything else.
“No. I’m not saying anything,” Libby huffed, before crossing her arms this time. “Now keep mixing. You still have a minute left, and we’re not screwing up these cupcakes because of you.” Nash guffawed as he tilted his head at her, laughing.
“Ouch. And alright, I’ll keep mixing.” He said with a smile.
“Good.” Libby said simply. She turned as she wiped down her counter, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see and feel Nash’s eyes on her. She tried her very hardest not to blush as she noticed the way his gaze raked down her body, before moving to his cupcake batter and mixing it. There was a pull to him that Libby had noticed since the first time they met. Despite everything she told herself, Libby hadn’t been able to get him off her mind. It was insane.
“Am I done mixing yet, chef?” Nash asked her suddenly. Libby turned around, walked over to him, studied his batter, then nodded.
“That looks about right.” She replied. “Now, grab that batter scoop from the pantry and try to get an even amount into every cupcake hole on the pan.” She glanced at her counter for a moment, and noticed Nash walking towards her. She turned her head and caught his gaze, watching him come closer and closer. A breath catches in her throat as he dips his head. And, just when Libby thinks he’s about to kiss her, just when she almost hopes he’s about to kiss her, he turns his head, facing his lips towards her ear, before whispering.
“Batter scoop.” He whispers teasingly. Then, he pulls open the drawer right beside her and grabs it, lifting his head and smiling at her flushed cheeks. He walks away, leaving her stunned as the blush spreads to the back of her neck.
“What was that?” Libby croaks out before she can stop herself.
“What was what?” He replies without missing a beat. Libby turned to look at him.
“That!” She said, pointing at the drawer where the batter scoop was. “That entire-“ She paused. Interaction, she was about to finish, before shaking her head and continuing.
“Nevermind.” She finished lamely. She continued to wipe down her counter, although she knew it was already clean.
“You mean me flirting with you?” Libby paused. She turned to look at where the voice came from, only to find Nash crossing his arms with his body turned towards her. Libby paused, before nodding quickly, blue hair getting into her face as she again wiped the counter down.
“I like doing it because you get all red.” He teased, washing his hands as he put the batter scoop into the sink. Libby’s heart thumped in her chest, as she answered.
“So?” She asked him, a good two syllables too high. He smiled at her sweet and slowly, holding her gaze as he took a few steps forward.
“So, maybe I like seeing you get all red.” He said. Libby couldn’t breathe, or let alone speak, so all she did was shake her head as she looked away from him. Suddenly, Nash took ahold of her wrist, pulling her forward.
“Don’t do that.” He warned her softly. Libby’s heart thumped louder, so loud that she was sure Nash could hear it.
“Do what?” She breathed. He pressed a thumb onto her wrist softly, holding her gaze.
“Diminish me every time I try to get close to you. I understand that this whole Drake situation has been hard, so just say the word and I won’t talk to you like this again.” Nash told her softly. Libby froze. Despite everything she told herself, Nash’s comments and flirting techniques were the only things keeping her from burrowing herself into a hole and never coming back out. Without him, she wouldn’t be able to hold her head up since everything was so difficult recently. As if possessed by something, she suddenly rose to the top of her toes, and pressed a soft kiss on Nash’s lips. Despite the feeling swirling through her entire body, Nash’s expression made her freeze. Did she do something wrong?
“Oh god.” She said suddenly, realizing what just happened. “I’m so sorry, I don’t- I don’t know what happened.” She pressed a hand to her mouth in shock, but Nash was quick to remove it. And with a dip of his head, his lips met hers, and he pressed a soft kiss onto them. Electricity flowed through her spine as she gazed up at him, watching him take a step forward and run his hands through her hair.
“Is this fine?” He murmured, coming closer. Too full of emotions to speak, Libby just nodded, and suddenly, Nash pulled her in closer, kissing her. It didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen. The hands that were in her hair moved down to her waist, and Libby’s hands moved to the back of his neck, feeling the ends of his hair. Soft brushes became more passionate, and although Libby made a sound in the back of her throat that might be seen as embarrassing, Nash just took it in with a low hum. In a flurried movement of kissing and stumbling, Libby felt her feet get lift slightly off the floor, before she felt herself get placed on the counter. She separated from him, although she was reluctant to, to look at her surroundings. Nash grinned at her, before speaking.
“So we’re at the same height.” His rough drawl explained, before taking her by the chin and pulling her in again. Nash’s body moved closer as he kissed her, and Libby locked her legs around him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she continued to kiss him passionately. Nash’s lips suddenly switched from kissing her to trailing kisses down her jaw. Libby shivered under his touch, and, just before he could plant a kiss on the end of her jawline, a loud clearing of the throat interrupted them. Libby immediately snapped her head up, although Nash was more reluctant to separate, before feeling her spine get coated with horror as she realized who it was. Alisa Ortega, Nash’s ex fiancé.
“Lee-Lee.” Nash greeted awkwardly. Libby knew how bad this looked. It hadn’t been too long since they had broken up the engagement, and since she was kissing him like this in a very public place, it felt like she was flaunting it in her face. Oh, god.
Alisa opened her mouth to speak, but Libby interrupted her.
“Is it about Avery? I better go see if she’s okay.” Libby rushed to say, hopping off the counter. Alisa narrowed her eyes at her as she began to speak, but Libby just waved her off. “Thank you so much Alisa, and um-“ She trailed off awkwardly.
“Thanks, bye.” She finished shyly, before speed walking off in the direction of her sister’s room, not wanting to admit that it upset her much more than she’d like to think that her kiss got interrupted.
Maybe, Libby thought with the slightest giddy feeling, cowboys like him weren’t so bad.
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btw this fic takes place at the dead end of the inheritance games and ties into the reason as to why alisa is so awkward with them in the hawthorne legacy ^^
hope you enjoyed!! <33💗
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sophiaatwdluver · 25 days ago
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☆ Early morning burst of sunshine ☆
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summary: (fluff) it’s time to get up for the day but Grayson wants to stay with you for longer, so end up staying with him and ramble about…. Everything. And Grayson loves it
warnings: the words “I love you”, clingy Grayson, short
word count: 358
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Grayson was usually a morning person, but not today. He didn’t know why today was different… actually he did. You were in his arms, And it felt absolutely amazing. He never wants it to end. So when you start to try to get out of his grip to get up, he tightens his grip. “Stay.” Grayson says with a grumble, his voice thick with sleep. He pulls you back by the waist, holding you tight and close. “…please” he pleads, slightly desperate. You give him a glance, a small smile forming on your face as you see the desperation in his gaze. You give him a small nod before laying your head back on his chest. He wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you impossibly close.
you snuggle up to his chest, drawn to his warmth like a moth to a fire. “I love you” you whisper against his chest, sending slight vibrations throughout his body. A wide and genuine smile spreads along his face. He Doesn't smile often, but with you… it’s like he can’t stop. “I love you too angel… more than anything…” he says back softy, just above a whisper.
You start to ramble, about… well… everything. Your childhood, people who are annoying you, people who really matter to you, the things you love, your dislikes… everything. Grayson didn’t really mind. He loved to listen to you talk. He could listen to you talk for hours. Not only is your voice beautiful and soothing, but he also just loves being with you, and your talking is a constant reminder of your presence, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Another thing he likes about you talking is…. Just looking at you. He could also look at you for hours without getting bored.
He loves everything about you. Your eyes, your nose, your lips, your skin, your body, but mostly. Your personality. The way you get so excited over everything you like. The way you express your emotions in the most expressive ways. The way your face lights up when you talk about something you love…. Everything… he loves everything about you. He loves you.
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HIIII. I wrote it… sorry it’s so short! I hope y’all aren’t mad at me for not writing twd but I just needed to express my LOVE for Grayson…. I’m ngl im proud of this… I feel like I’ve gotten at least a little better then my first ever fanfic… anywayyyy, to make it up to you guys I’ll write a Carl fic, give me ideas pretty please! Also would you guys like more Grayson? Maybe turn this into a series? Or make a series? I kinda really want to make one, for Carl or Grayson…. Give me ideas!
@carlsangel @rarllover3753 @txrasbae @hiro--aoki
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thelov3lybookworm · 1 month ago
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Mine? Epilogue
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
Summary: her heart is so full.
•○●⛦●○•
Word Count: 975
A/n: we are done with this series... I CANT BELIEVE IT OMG WERE DONE WITH IT 😭
THANK YOU TO YOU ALL FOR COLLOWING THIS SERIES EVEN THOUGH IT TOOK ME MONTHS TO FINISH IT ASJHAJDHDF 😭 ILY ALL SO MUCH ILY ILYY
im so happy heheh 🥹
anyways, enjoy!🥹❣️
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
"Mommyyy."
Y/n sighed, bowing her head and rubbing her eyes, water dripping from her fingers. She had only just gotten into the bath and Adelaide already missed her?
"Yes my love?" she called out.
"Where are you?"
"In the bath, baby."
Adelaide’s response was only the soft pitter patter of her feet as she ran into the bathroom, the door unlocked because Y/n knew her little girl loved following her around and if she had locked the door, it would have resulted in a tiny tantrum.
"Mommy, where is daddy?"
Adelaide had returned from school half an hour earlier, the car ride back home filled with her babbling about everything that had happened that day. Y/n had no choice but to nod along like she understood it all, while half the stuff she could not even make sense of.
It made her wonder if she even knew english.
Y/n raised her brows at her five year old. She only just remembered that her daddy was not home?
"Baby, daddy had some work. He will be returning soon."
Adelaide pouted, leaning against the tub and swirling her finger through the milky water.
"I miss him."
Y/n nodded solemnly. "Do you want me to call him?"
Adelaide’s eyes lit up. "Yes momma! Please."
Y/n wiped her hand on a nearby towel and picked up her phone to dial up her husband’s number.
"Hello?"
Y/n had the call on speaker phone, so before she could respond, Adelaide did.
"Daddy! Where are you?"
Y/n could hear the smile in Grayson’s voice. "I’m just parking the car sweetheart. Come greet me?"
Adelaide only giggled and ran off, leaving the bathroom door open. Y/n sighed again, shaking her head.
Adelaide was a daddy’s girl through and through. And he was just as smitten by her as she was him.
Y/n would never want it any other way.
"You there, love?"
Y/n blinked, turning her attention to her phone. "Yes."
He paused for a moment. "I forgot what I was supposed to say." he exhaled a frustrated breath, prompting Y/n to giggle.
From the other end, Y/n heard Adelaide’s voice squeaking and squealing and smiled, deciding to end the call. Her husband would soon be coming to say hi anyway.
My husband.
Despite being married for four years already, the thought made her blush every time.
The two had gotten married almost a year after he had proposed. It took the two almost twelve months to convince Liam and her father that Grayson actually loved Y/n. Y/n’s mother, despite being disappointed in Grayson, had forgiven him quickly.
Maybe she saw the way Grayson looked at Y/n, or maybe it was her mother’s heart that only wanted happiness for her daughter. Whatever it was, she had accepted the two’s engagement within the first month. It was the men of the house who still held a grudge.
Y/n’s father and brother would constantly poke at Grayson, at times borderline bully the poor man. But Gray did not budge on his decision to marry her, even knowing that there was a chance that her family would never accept him and always hold animosity towards his very existence.
And that very determination of his to stay with Y/n swayed her father and brother, and while they still weren’t too friendly with him still, things were constantly getting better.
"Mommy’s in there." Y/n heard just a moment before Grayson appeared in the doorway, Adelaide in his arms.
His brows rose the tiniest fraction when he realised Y/n was in the tub. "Well, hello mama. How are you?"
Y/n shook her head, suppressing her smile at the way he shot her a suggestive smirk. "Good."
Adelaide squirmed in Grayson’s arm before he could say anything else, attention already drifting.
"Daddy, I drew you in school today. Let me show you."
She was gone then, leaving Y/n with her husband, who’s lips spread in a flirtier smirk.
He walked closer to her, leaning in while eyeing her shoulders. Y/n could already see the gears in his head turning, already thinking of ways to persuade Y/n to let him join. He began leaning in when she splashed some water on him, making him jerk away.
"Y/n! What was that for?"
She giggled, leaning back in the tub, shaking away the few tendrils of hair that had escaped her bun. "Just felt like it."
He scowled at her, then before Y/n knew what was happening, he began tickling her.
Well, I didn’t think about the consequences.
"Gray- Grayson stoop."
He finally relented after a long moment of making Y/n laugh hysterically, her stomach squeezing.
If anyone who had known Grayson five years ago saw him now, so happy and warm, they would not believe it. But Adelaide had somehow, without even knowing, healed her father. He was happier now, he did not hide his emotions behind a mask, he smiled at everyone he talked to.
"That’s what you get for being mean to me."
She just smiled at him, her heart so full, and grabbed the collar of his shirt, not caring that she left behind prints of her hand, and tugged him close.
He let her do so without a complaint, smile on his lips when she finally kissed him.
"Daddy!"
Y/n pulled away, laughing lightly. "Go, daddy, your princess has summoned you."
He chuckled back, standing straight, but seemed to change his mind as he pecked her lips once more. "I’m yours."
Random confessions of love had become a habit of his now.
Kissing her forehead once he jogged out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Leaving her to smile to herself like a giddy teenager.
Mine.
He’s mine.
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
Mine taglist: @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @blocked-zombieartist @lillycore @lanterns-and-daydreams
@bubybubsters @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @thena101
@imaseabear @book-nerd-emi @cassie6392
The Inheritance Games Taglist: @dahliawarner @thena101 @yucanbmylxdy @sheisntyou @kitkatlover015
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cherrys-writings · 8 months ago
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Dating grayson and him getting jealous?:)thank youu!!
Your Favorite Kisses
+18 Explicit sexual content, biting, marking, jealous Grayson
It’s not like you could have guessed this was the missing piece to your relationship. Probably a dream relationship, two friends accidentally falling for each other. You and Grayson becoming an Us. Nothing felt more right, you had him now and you couldn’t get enough, finally able to touch every inch of him. You tangle your fingers in his light hair, losing yourselves in each other. Grayson’s toned body trapping you against the wall, wandering hands teetering the line between confidence and hesitation. Your legs wrapped around his waist. Never failing to pull a gasp from you when he easily hauls you off your feet. You get to watch Grayson let go of his control. His perfect, deliberate kisses turning rushed and clumsy. The grazes of his teeth turning to full bites. 
The little “innocent” kisses. Something about when he kisses your hand makes you blush harder than anything. In public, Grayson will rarely do more than kiss your hands or cheeks, but he doesn’t keep his hands to himself. Always needing physical contact: an arm around your waist, a gentle hand on the small of your back, hand resting on your knee, or his fingers laced with yours. 
Affectionately dubbed the “princely brother,” Grayson once responded to a question about your relationship with, “she’s my queen.”
Then there are the less frenzied kisses. When you’re straddling his lap or laying on top of him. Grayson is content to hold you against him and explore your mouth with his tongue. His hands cradling your face, gently biting your lip, groaning into your mouth when you inevitably roll your hips against his. Until his large hands lock you in place, shushing your whine with an “I know sweetheart,” murmured against your skin. Always waiting for you to settle before starting again. Slowly getting you riled up with his hands lazily wandering, until you’re practically begging him to fuck you. Even then, he takes his time, worshiping every inch of your body. Kissing every area of exposed flesh, sucking and biting until you’re marked to his liking. Each one in a place for his eyes alone. 
You wouldn’t dare let anyone know that your favorite kisses come when Grayson is jealous. When someone has been staring too long, gotten a little too touchy,or flirted a bit too hard. Grayson has only so much self-control and it takes all of it to civilly get you away from whoever thinks they can touch what belongs to him and get you out of there. He doesn’t let you get a word out before crashing his mouth to yours, claiming the sounds you make as he pins you against the nearest wall, counter, whatever and pushing his thigh between your legs. 
Biting the sensitive part of your neck and growling, “almost bent you over and fucked you right there. Show him exactly who you belong to.”
Grayson’s hand covering your mouth as he plunges his fingers into your soaked entrance. “So wet already. Bet you wanted him to see me fuck you, huh?”
Your barely muffled moans are answer enough, his fingers curling just right. Grayson is just as relentless with his fingers as he is with his cock, bringing you to the edge, but not letting you fall into bliss, not yet. He wants to hear you beg for it. Beg for him to let you come. He doesn’t care who hears you, they’ll all know how good he makes you feel. The things you let him do to you. Not that pompous ass that had the audacity to touch what’s his. 
Grayson has you bent over a counter, hand tangled in your hair, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror as he takes what he needs. You’re thankful for the waterproof mascara when tears pool in your eyes because it's too much but just so good. His face pressed against your neck, muttering obscene words as he leaves deep purple bruises you know you won’t be able to hide. 
“Everyone will know who you belong to now. Fuck. Gonna have my cum running down your thighs the rest of the evening.”
Grayson stifles his groans against your neck, “who do you belong to?”
“I’m yours.” you pant
“Tell them who you belong to,” he growls
“I’M YOURS”
Your legs nearly give out when you come, shuddering in his arms. His hips jerk then still when he finally comes, panting against your shoulder. He helps you fix your hair as best you can before finding a back way to sneak you out of whatever event you’re at. Grayson makes sure to go back and find that bastard. Keeping eye contact as he wipes your smeared lipstick from his mouth with a handkerchief.
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morganwrites12672 · 2 years ago
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Can you do 🩰 Jameson Hawthorne x reader, please?
Jameson Hawthorne x Reader
A/N: I love getting TIG requests!
Summary: It was definitely love
Warnings/Tags: Female!Reader, Jameson x reader established relationship (romantic), fluff, fluffffffff, kissing
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This was love.
The look in Jameson's eyes as he stared back into yours. Was definitely love.
"I think I'm in love with you. Like really in love," Jameson whispered. He hadn't ever felt something like this before.
Your touch gave him butterflies, the mention of your name had him daydreaming.
"That's good." He looks confused before you finish, "because I'm in love with you to." The gap between the two of you is closed as his lips crash into yours
He tastes like whatever whiskey he had been drinking and a faint taste of lemon. Xander must be mad at him if he was giving him lemon instead of blueberry flavored scones.
All thoughts if the other Hawthornes leave your kind as Jameson's hand grasps into yours. He loves the way your hand fit with his. Fingers locked.
Jameson smiled as he pulled away
He didn't say anything. Just drinking in your beauty. Your soft skin was softly lit up in the pale moonlight. It reflected off of your body like the sun off of water. Everything about the scene in front of him was beautiful.
He threaded his fingers through your silly hair. He couldn't love you anymore. Everything about you was completely perfect.
"I don't think I can live without you," he whispered and the tone of his voice and sincerity in his eyes tells you he wasn't joking.
He didn't think he was. The thought of not being able to spend every waking second with you made him sick.
He could live without a lot of things. Hell, he could go longer without oxygen then without you.
"You won't have to, I have no plans of ever leaving," you whispered and cuddled into his bare chest.
The both of you could stay like this forever. Holding into the other for dear life.
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requests are open!
Reblogs and comments are very appreciated!
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aaal-iz-well · 12 days ago
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✦ making the rumor mill churn ✦  
a/n: hey guys, so this is basically me making good on my promise to post small ficlets and stuff, so here you go. enjoy reading it. the title says it all.
“Avery!”
“Miss Grambs!”
“Look here!”
“Mr. Hawthorne, how do you feel about the comments on your relationship with Avery Grambs?”
Avery tensed beside Jameson, smile growing tight, and despite all the media practice, her shoulders curled inwards. No one would notice it, except the edits where they focused on every micro aspect of her body language in slow motion.
Avery would hate it.
Jameson cocked his head in a pose, winking at a random boy in behind the cameras, seeing him squeak. He widened his stance, because despite the heels, Avery wasn’t quite as tall as him.
“Heiress?” he spoke in her ear.
“Huh,” she hummed, careful not to turn towards him. He could already imagine all the thoughts in her head, what would happen if she did.
“Do you think they know,” he asked casually over the din of the reporters bombing them with questions.
What would you say about your father’s connection with Miss Skye Hawthorne? There’s uncertainty about the future of the Hawthorne name after your decision to liquidate majority of assets for charity. Is it—
“What, Jameson?” Usually, his vague questions (Heiress, guess what I’m thinking right now? When am I going to see the girl of my dreams?) were met with equally vague— and at times mischievous— answers from the young billionaire.
A question for a question.
He would forgive her for not playing this time. He supposed the strain of her smile, of having to keep her cheeks up, but not too wide, not too creepy, not so, bluh, generic, not like that, was taking a toll on her capacity to entertain him.
No worries, he could be the entertainer tonight.
“About the mark on my collarbone,” he whispered, the words barely more than air. “Do you think I should pull it down just a little, teeny tiny bit. Give them something to talk about?”
“Jameson!” she said through her smile, eyes never straying to his. Her calmness was laudable, really. At times, he was willing to bet it gave Grayson’s a run for his money. Literally. But he could sense the undertone of warning in it. she might as well have said the words with daggers in her eyes.
“What are you going to do?” he challenged her in a sing song manner, pretending not to notice the tick in her jaw. The way she seemed to withdraw from the crowd was something he relished in. The way, despite her frozen face, he knew he had her attention. Her spine straightened. Her smile was muscle memory, and she was looking— not at the reporters of cameras, or journalists— just looking. Her gorgeous self. Above all the lies they were ready to spew about her.
“Are you going to kiss me on the mouth after that, cause like cat’s out of the bag?” he continued lowly, serenading in her ear. “Really really hard. Show them you did it, banish all those stories from their minds.”
“Shut up Jameson,” she said, her lips barely moving to make the sound. They moved further up the carpet, his hand on her back.
Jameson assesses the crowd from this higher vantage. “They seem to want to know an awful lot, don't they. And I wouldn’t mind climbing the rung to the hottest Hawthorne. My aunt's had her days, af—”
Suddenly, Jameson shut his mouth like a trap.
Well, that was okay, relatively okay, considering the alternative was yelping like a kitten when Avery pinched him, right on his hip. Where she knew the skin wasn’t quite as sturdy as the rest on his body. They’d had a long night, though he was far from complaining.
“Cat got your tongue, Jamie darling?” she said, finally finally looking at him, speaking the words right over his face. The words weren’t spoken through her frozen smile. This was a secretive one, meant only for him. Something that Landon couldn’t take the credit for instilling, something entirely, unapologetically her own.
The answer to her question would be in the affirmative, cause he couldn’t bring himself to answer. His entire body tingled with tremors, the epicentre where she’d pinched him.
“Who knew you had a pause button.” Her nails lightly dragged over his back, but they were more soothing than teasing. “Smile for the cameras.”
“You forget, Heiress,” he told her when he’d recovered. A forearm hoisted on her shoulder to make up for lost time. “Two can play that game.”
“They very well can,” she told him, a twinkle in her eyes. “But I doubt you want me on your bad side, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne.”
His heiress really did know all the chinks in his armour. The way she said his name, the practiced ease, it slowly rolled off her mouth like that. Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. Like leisurely unspinning a yarn; a command; a challenge; a gauntlet thrown down. Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. Brimming with things only the two of them could understand.
He was a squeaking schoolgirl, a fangirl, a crazy man palpitating on the street.
“What?” he asked her. “You're going to unleash your PR dogs on me”
“I’ll alone be enough to make you regret it, let alone my PR.”
Jameson, for this once thought it best not to test her. He was done here. So he let his arm drop from her shoulder and wound it around her waist instead as they made to take their seats. “I think I agree.”
“Miss Grambs, Mr. Hawthorne, is it true that the two of you are in a relationship? The rumour mill is certainly going to be busy tonight.”
And well, later on, when it was Avery’s turn on the stage, he knew that camera was panned in on him, if he fanned his collar— it was a bit stuffy, in his defence, or rather his cover— and made sure people knew, he could always claim plausible deniability.
a/n: so that's it. i have some more ideas and may be posting soon, thanks for reading. also feel free to send some promp if you iiked this. buh byee love you guys
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hauntingyouwithpjo · 2 months ago
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Screaming crying throwing up about the possibility of a “who did this to you?” scene in Nash and Libby’s story because of that one time she got hit by drake in tig
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wish-i-were-heather · 4 months ago
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A FOOL FOR YOU PT 5⤵ GRAYSON HAWTHORNE X READER
ABOUT: 2610 words, no use of y/n (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4)
STORY: after so long avoiding it, you and grayson finally talk about what happened and figure out what it all means
WARNINGS: none!!
TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl @zuzanna-jadw1ga @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @jimcarreyfann42 @maybxlle @xoxo-vee @elysianwayy77 @ravishinglyliving - lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!
A/N: this took wayyyy longer than i meant it to, sorry about that. i hope you guys liked this series because it was so fun to write!! (i dont plan to continue it but who knows...)
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When you woke up, you could feel the cool morning breeze making its way into your room. The birds were chirping outside, and the sun was just at the right level to where it would hit your eyes and make it hard for you to open them all the way. 
Your bed felt warmer for some reason this morning- the blanket heavier, the mattress firmer, the pillow softer. You weren’t complaining, no, it was actually a… nice change. A change from your normal routine, no matter how much you relied on it. Maybe it wasn’t really different and you were just still half asleep, or-
Wait.
You never slept with your window open. 
You shouldn’t have been able to feel the breeze. Or hear the birds. Or have that much sunlight peeking through. It wasn’t that things just felt different this morning, but this wasn’t your room.
When your eyes snapped open, they widened at the realization of who was beside you, the realization of whose arm was resting lazily across your stomach.
Grayson Davenport Hawthorne. 
Your breath caught when you saw him. Thankfully the man had put on a shirt, but he looked so unlike himself while he was asleep. 
Grayson’s usually perfectly styled hair was tousled, some light strands falling onto his forehead. His breathing was slow, steady, gentle, and you could see the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. His lips were slightly parted, making a barely audible hum with each exhale. He looked younger, more boyish in this moment of relaxation.
It was a different look on him, but not necessarily a bad one.
He stirred slightly, and you were completely frozen, only watching as he rolled over from his back to his stomach, closer to you. You had no idea what had possessed you to get into a bed with Grayson Hawthorne last night, but you were now suffering the consequences. 
You tried gently to push his arm away, but Grayson was surprisingly strong in his sleep and wouldn’t let go. In fact, it only seemed to wrap around you tighter.
He was killing you right now. 
The worst part was, your mind was blanking as to how you got there. You knew that neither of you had anything to drink, so it wasn’t that. You also would’ve been able to feel it if you were hungover. 
It was probably the mind fog from having just woken up, but you still didn’t like not remembering. 
Pushing his arm off you only proved to be futile yet again. Just as you were about to get desperate and resort to calling his name, Grayson awoke. 
Well, saying he was awake was an overstatement. Grayson let out a groan and his arm tightened around you further, like he didn’t realize it was you he was holding onto. He kicked his legs out, taking up a surprisingly large amount of the bed, almost tangled up with you.
“Hmm,” he muttered, slowly opening his eyes. “I… what the-” 
Grayson’s eyes widened like yours when he saw you next to him and saw where his hand was placed. He immediately retracted the arm and as awkward as you’d found it, part of you missed its warmth. 
He cleared his throat and spoke again. “Good morning. You’re awake.”
“Uh, yeah,” you confirmed. “Why am I-”
“In my bed?” Grayson interrupted. “After the pool last night, we came back up here and talked for a bit. You fell asleep and I didn’t want to wake you, so I figured I’d let you stay.”
Oh.
Phew.
“You should've just woken me up and I could’ve gone to my room, it’s not that big of a deal,” you told him.
“You’re a peaceful sleeper. I didn’t wish to get in the way of that.”
Did he really have you blushing this early in the morning?
“Oh, thank you,” was the only response you could manage.
Grayson sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. Everything about him looking younger and peaceful as he slept had gone away, and he was now back to his sharp eyes staring at you intensely. The eyes you could never read, the eyes that he always managed to hide so much behind.
You forced yourself to sit up too, and- oh my god you were wearing his shirt.
You hadn’t even known that Grayson owned anything besides the countless suits he always wore. And those sweatpants, apparently, from when he was drunk the other night. 
But here you were, wearing your shorts from the night before but your hoodie replaced by a soft white shirt that was far too big for you. You realized you were still wearing your swimsuit under it, but it had dried by now. 
A small noise came from his nose, just a little too loudly for it to be a normal exhale.
“What,” you groaned, sheepishly looking up to meet his eyes. “Do I really look that pathetic that I managed to make Grayson Hawthorne laugh at me?”
His corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “You don’t look pathetic. It’s just your face, you look…” he cut himself off and paused to find the right adjective. You could tell what he’d been about to say.
Please don’t say cute. For the love of all things sane, please don’t call me cute. 
“Amusing.”
Somehow, that was worse. 
You sighed and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The night before was starting to come back to you: 
After the kiss, the two of you had stayed out there and talked for a good while. You got out of the pool, put your regular clothes back on over your swimsuit. Then Grayson offered to go up to his room. You accepted the offer, and when you got up there he’d offered you one of his shirts because your hoodie had gotten wet. He then put on a shirt himself, and you simply sat on his bed and talked.
And apparently you’d fallen asleep in the same bed.
Grayson cleared his throat. “You’re thinking.”
“Yes I am.” You didn’t even bother being surprised that he could read you so easily because of course he could. 
“Is it selfish of me to guess that you’re thinking about last night?” 
“I don’t know about selfish, but it certainly wouldn’t be incorrect.” 
A beat of silence. 
You felt out of place there, sitting on the bed next to him, probably looking like a mess. But the way he looked at you during that silence proved that he wasn’t necessarily upset about your unbrushed hair or half-awake eyes or the way the sleeves of his shirt on you nearly went down to your forearms. 
“I meant everything I said,” he finally spoke. “I hope you know that.”
Oh, now he was willing to bring up the elephant in the room? Last time it had taken him a week. Though you supposed it was harder to avoid when you’d both woken up in his bed. 
“Even when you were drunk?” You asked.
His voice was surprisingly soft. “Even when I was drunk.”
Another silence. There seemed to be a lot of them that morning. And in that silence, you let the reality of what had happened settle in:
You kissed Grayson Hawthorne last night. 
Twice.
And all either of you had to say about it was some awkward banter. 
But you didn’t know what else to say. What was a kiss to someone like Grayson? Was it just a meaningless action to him? Could he just kiss someone and forget? Or was it the opposite, you’d kissed and now there was no moving on? You assumed- you hoped for the latter, and knowing him it was most likely, but you couldn’t be sure. 
He was Grayson Hawthorne, after all. Who knew how many girls wanted to kiss him. Not that he ever let them, but you wouldn’t think it strange of him to find a kiss to be worth nothing.
So you figured you just had to ask.
“What are we, Grayson?”
To your surprise, he smiled softly. 
“That depends,” he told you. “What would you like us to be?”
~~
Avery had sent you a voicemail at eleven the night before. She’d also texted you countless times ever since then, well into the morning.
By the time you left Grayson’s room, it was nine.
Your hoodie hadn’t dried overnight, so he’d let you keep his shirt. You’d tied it up to try to make it fit at least a little, but it was still far too large. And it smelled like him- that didn’t help.
You pressed play on Avery’s voicemail.
“Hello? Are you- oh, it’s a voicemail. Okay, uh, well, call me back when you can. You said you’d let me know what happens with you and Grayson. I mean since you haven’t come back yet I can assume it went well? I hope so, maybe since it’s late you guys-” She paused. “Nevermind, I don’t want to think about what you’re doing. Call me. Bye.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. What on earth did she think you were doing? But you couldn’t blame her, because you’d initially had the same thought when you woke up next to him that morning. 
Avery answered your call back almost immediately. 
“Hello?” Her voice said through the phone.
“Hey, I’m alive.”
There was a high noise from the other end, but you couldn’t quite make it out. 
“Finally! I thought you drowned in the pool or something. You wanna tell what happened? It’s been, like, twelve hours.”
Damn, she was right. You’d gone to the pool at eight last night, and it was now nine in the morning. You spent most of those hours alone with Grayson, your mind decided to remind you. You had to push the thought out of your head.
“Yeah, I’ll tell you,” you said. “In person, though. Where are you?”
“We’re in the back, by the pool. Thought it would be funny to wait for you here.”
You frowned. “Who is we-”
“Max,” she explained. There was another sound from beside her. “She says to get the fox over here, beach.”
~~
Talking to Max and Avery didn’t prove to be productive, but it had been fun. Long story short, Max thought the idea of drunk Grayson was hilarious and Avery fully thought you were joking when you told her you’d kissed.
That only offended you a little.
But the talk by the pool didn’t last too long. Eventually, you made your way back inside. You just wanted to be alone with your thoughts for longer. You still didn’t completely know how you felt about the whole situation, despite discussing it with your two closest friends. 
You realized it was almost ten o’clock and you still hadn’t had breakfast, so you went to the kitchen. As you got there, you couldn’t help but think back to when Grayson had come in, hungover yet looking completely put-together. When he’d reached into the refrigerator and grabbed cherries for some reason. 
You laughed quietly at the memory. 
“What’s so funny, hm?”
Your head snapped back and you were met once again with Grayson Hawthorne. And once again he was in a suit, his hair fixed, looking perfect. 
He had a talent for putting himself together.
“Nothing,” you replied. “I’m just thinking.”
Grayson walked over to you and nodded. “You do that a lot.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a lot to think about.”
“Care to share?”
Having a conversation with Grayson Davenport Hawthorne was always difficult. Not because of the way he spoke, no, but rather because of the way he looked. 
How were you supposed to focus with those silver-gray eyes looking down at you, with the way the corners wrinkled with each poorly hidden smile? How were you supposed to stand up straight when every time his fingers even brushed your skin you melted into his touch?
How were you supposed to exist when he did too?
Oh, right, he asked a question. 
“I’m thinking about what you said,” you told him honestly. There was no point in trying to hide your feelings from him now. 
“And remind me,” he said, moving even closer. “What did I say?”
“That you meant everything you said, even when you were drunk.”
He nodded along, but he was clearly focused more on you rather than what you were saying.
“You said you wanted my face.” You said slowly. “I know you were drunk and it was just a stupid comment, but-”
He stopped with a finger to your mouth. “We went over this the morning after, no?” Grayson’s hand moved from covering your mouth to cup your face again and it took everything you had not to lean further into it. “I would be honored to have your face.” 
Even if the words were stupid, the meaning behind them was so much stronger. 
When he leaned in to whisper in your ear you nearly fainted. 
“May I?”
You didn’t answer, but you let your arms wrap themselves around his hips as he leaned down to meet your lips with his and-
“Jeez you guys, get a room!” Grayson stood up straight at the new voice, but your hands stayed on each other. “This is like the third time this week I’ve walked in on you two kissing out in the open. Other people live here you kno-”
Xander, who had entered the kitchen and complained about your affection, completely froze when he saw you.
“You’re not Avery.” He then pointed to his brother. “You’re not Jameson.”
Grayson cleared his throat. “Xander-”
Xander gasped. “Wait, are you two, like, a thing? Like, dating? Like, kissy kissy cuddle cuddle muah muah?” 
“Xander-”
“Oh my… I knew it! I mean, I didn’t want to make any assumptions, but the two of you have been acting pretty weird for a bit now and I thought-”
“Xander-”
“-hold on. Nash owes me so much money now.”
“Xander-”
“What Gray? Of course we have a bet going. I guess my optimism is finally paying off! I was right, you are getting together! This is the best news of my life-”
“Alexander.”
Xander finally stopped rambling and looked at his brother. Grayson was absolutely glaring at him, the kind of look that spoke volumes. And coming from him, it was even louder.
“Damn,” Xander said, shaking his head. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were such a party pooper. Actually, who am I kidding, I’ve known that forever.” He shrugged. “Just… keep kissing or whatever. Good job. Er, uh, I mean-”
“Just go away, Xander.”
“Yes sir. I’m gone.”
Once the footsteps were too far to be heard, Grayson let out a sigh of relief. 
You burst out laughing. Grayson only stared at you with a blank expression, like he was waiting for you to stop, which only made you laugh harder. 
When you’d finally caught your breath, he let his hand find your face again, this time tangling itself in your hair. “My brother seems to think we’re dating.”
You didn’t try to hide the blush that covered your entire face. “And how do you feel about that, Grayson?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be upset if his assumption turned out to be true.”
Silence somehow fell upon the two of you again, but this time it was different. Not unsure, not nervous, not awkward. This time, it was a comfortable silence. A silence in which you looked into his eyes. A silence in which you could finally read one of the emotions hiding behind them: 
Love.
“Grayson?”
“Yes?”
“I think I figured out what I want us to be.”
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